


by any other name

by Iris_Duncan_72



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Fantasy, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Nightmares, Sparring, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Violence, [lies in a ditch] don't ask me what's going on because idk, [slaps fic] you can fit SO MUCH Gay Tension in this baby!!!, horny-coded dubious nonsense because that's all i can write rn, however, it was also meant to be soft lmfao, itzy features woohoo, ive come to the realisation that im in the midst of an existential exploration of consent, many wikipedia articles were consulted, playing fast and loose with historical accuracy, this was meant to be short, you're not surprised don't lie, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:34:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24089737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iris_Duncan_72/pseuds/Iris_Duncan_72
Summary: Crown Prince Jisung rescues a sylph while at sea.  The consequences are, to say the least, unexpected.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Hwang Hyunjin
Comments: 34
Kudos: 169
Collections: favorites ♥





	by any other name

**Author's Note:**

> i CANNOT emphasise enough how much that gore tag is earned in the final scene. im not talking organs and cannibalism (this time) but it gets. rather intense. so keep that in mind.
> 
> _seja-jeoha_ = crown prince (joseon dynasty)

_'I choose my own fate.'  
_

_'Then it wouldn't be fate, would it?'_

\- Will Turner & Davy Jones, _Pirates of the Caribbean:  
_ _Dead Man's Chest_

_‘Seja-jeoha.’_

Jisung turned away from the map-covered wall in the pirate captain’s quarters, back to the member of his personal guard who’d been standing by the door. Beyond her was a crewman from his ship – trusted, but not to the level of the Prince’s Guard.

‘Yes?’ he queried, one eyebrow arched.

‘Bosun says he and the crew have gotten into the locked compartment in the hold and requests you come at once,’ she replied.

Brow furrowing in mild confusion, Jisung nodded and crossed the room, stepping out into the late afternoon light. His boatswain was a sensible man, not prone to dramatics, so that lack of detailed information was curious, to say the least.

‘Ryujin,’ Jisung murmured, casting an eye over the ship, which looked rather worse for wear after the fight between the pirates and the prince’s men. ‘Have the cabin cleared out, will you? I’m done in there.’

She dipped her head. ‘Yes, sir.’

With that, Jisung followed his visibly anxious bosun down the short staircase to the main deck, passing the bound, kneeling, and battered pirates and the guards standing over them. Chaeryoung, another member of his Guard, fell into step behind him when Ryujin stayed behind, the change of guard seamless. The bosun led them below deck, the gloom ameliorated by the holes punched in the walls and ceiling by cannon balls. There weren’t many other people down here and they swiftly reached the back of the hold, passing bundles of supplies, stolen goods, and hammocks. Here there was a partition that seemed much newer than the rest of the ship, the only way past it through a heavily fortified door that was finally open. A couple of Jisung’s crew stood nearby, wide-eyed and pale-faced, while Yeji guarded the doorway, an edge of shock visible even on her usually inscrutable face.

She glanced at Chaeryoung over Jisung’s shoulder, then briskly nodded to the prince. _‘Seja-jeoha.’_

Frown deepening, Jisung stepped past his bosun to the door, Yeji holding out a lamp to illuminate the small, impromptu room. Shadows fled before the tongues of golden light and suddenly Jisung understood what all the fuss was about.

An iron ring was fastened to the floor with a pair of heavy manacles attached to it by a very short length of thick chain. Nothing unusual there.

That the manacles were fastened around the wrists of a too-skinny man with fire in his eyes and two pairs of wings on his back? That was less usual. This was a _sylph_ , after all, a near-fabled being from the farthest corners of the world, beyond the vast reaches of the Blessed Empire. Jisung had no idea what it – he? – was doing so far from home.

The sylph was curled up in a ball, wedged into a corner, almost as many steel-grey feathers on the floor as attached to his wings. He wore a tired, grubby shift of what looked like sackcloth, something that did nothing to hide the press of his bones up against his skin with little flesh to pad out the sharp edges. His expression skated the wrong side of feral and he recoiled, chains rattling, when Jisung took a single step into the room.

A whisper of visceral anger curled to life at the base of Jisung’s spine. ‘Yeji,’ he gritted out, struggling to moderate his tone.

‘Sir?’ she replied, voice consciously hushed.

‘Where’s the key for the shackles?’

‘There wasn’t one with the rest, sir.’

‘Find it.’

There was a soft _clink_ as the lantern changed hands and then the muted sounds of Yeji’s footsteps swiftly retreating. Moving slowly, Jisung lowered himself into a crouch, hands visible and empty at all times. The sylph stared at him, unblinking.

‘I mean you no harm,’ Jisung said quietly. ‘You have no reason to trust me yet but I promise you, on the throne of the Emperor, that I will cause you no pain unless you threaten me and mine.’

The sylph didn’t so much as twitch.

‘I am Crown Prince Jisung and my guard, Yeji, has gone to find the key for your cuffs so we can release you.’

‘No key.’ The sylph’s voice was a hoarse whisper.

Jisung blinked. ‘There... isn’t a key?’

‘No. Captain threw it away. Into the sea.’ A piercing note of distress entered the sylph’s tone. ‘Said I’ll never be – be free.’ The last word cracked and the sylph dropped his head.

Fury roared through Jisung on a violent wave, leaving him nearly light-headed with the urge to stab someone and it took him a couple of shaky breaths to find his voice again. ‘You _will_ be free again, I swear it. It is no matter if there isn’t a key – we have other tools that can unlock the cuffs.’

A hint of liquid flame peering up at him through thick lashes, the sylph judging the weight of the prince’s word.

Exhaling sharply, Jisung straightened, forcing himself to ignore the sylph’s flinch, and turned, seeking Chaeryoung. She lifted her chin to acknowledge his attention, jaw clenched as tight as Jisung’s.

‘Stay here,’ he muttered. ‘He might react better to a woman.’

She stepped up alongside him and the sylph’s attention flickered to her briefly before returning to Jisung. Perhaps he saw her as less of a threat, which was a laughable thought all on its own.

‘Chaeryoung will remain with you,’ Jisung announced, holding the sylph’s gaze. ‘She won’t hurt you either.’

The sylph made no reply, only watched him with the intensity of a hunted creature.

‘And you, sir?’ Chaeryoung murmured, hardly moving her lips.

Jisung let her see the black rage boiling up in him. She nodded firmly and settled into a relaxed but watchful stance as Jisung left the awful room. He ordered the few crewmen hovering nervously to clear out anything useful from the hold and strode up the rickety stairs to the main deck, murder on his mind.

‘Yeji,’ he barked, emerging into the cool evening air. ‘Where’s Yeji?’

‘Here, _seja-jeoha._ ’ She stood amongst the soldiers guarding the sullen pirates, looming over a particularly battered man, blood seeping from a long cut on his forehead. ‘The captain claims there is no key. I’m about to encourage him to reconsider his words.’

Jisung let his gaze settle on the man in question, boring into him until he looked away. ‘Save your encouragement for the lock. According to the sylph, the captain speaks truly about this.’

Yeji’s reply was interrupted by a scratchy cough from the captain, the sound one of amusement. ‘’Course I am,’ the pirate scoffed. ‘Wasn’t gonna risk the cursed monster escaping, was I?’

Jisung strode over the deck, anger prickling under his skin and fingers itching for his sword. ‘You expect me to believe that a half-starved _sylph_ poses any threat to a ship full of depraved criminals?’ he snapped, lip curling. ‘You confuse my level of intelligence for your own.’

Another croaky laugh ripped from the beetle-eyed pirate. ‘We thought the same as you, princeling, least until it tried to kill us all.’

‘A likely story,’ Jisung spat, completely out of patience. He glanced at Yeji and jerked his head back towards the stairs leading to the hold. ‘Don’t bring him up till I’m done.’

Her eyes were flat as she held his gaze. ‘Understood, sir.’

As she left again, Ryujin appeared from the captain’s quarters as though by magic, silently joining Jisung on the main deck. Purpose coalesced in his blood and he drew his sword with deliberation. Alarm, resignation, panic, hatred – all of these emotions and more flashed across the faces of the pirates, some of them even daring to plead with the prince for mercy. Jisung was not usually one for mass executions, despite it being his right as the pirate ship had attacked him first, but today he had few qualms, his conscience quiet beneath the weight of his fury.

‘You’re an arrogant fool,’ the pirate captain snarled, shoving forward against his captors with renewed aggression. ‘That fucking thing will kill every one of you.’

Jisung whipped up the tip of his sword, holding it less than a hand’s span from the pirate’s face. ‘I hope the thought gives you comfort in the afterlife,’ he replied coldly.

The captain had no time to respond, for a moment later Jisung’s blade had slashed through the front of his throat and he collapsed, crimson blood gushing everywhere. Fearful cries rippled through the gathered pirates but they were unarmed and had a dozen or more weapons pointed at them. Some of the arterial spray had caught Jisung, staining his face and clothes, but he ignored it, already turning his attention to the next man. Behind him, he heard Ryujin unsheathe her own sword and in wordless tandem, they painted the floorboards red till there were no pirates left to fell, the soldiers stony-faced witnesses.

The sylph was surprisingly docile as he was led out of the hold and onto the main deck, Chaeryoung ahead of him and Yeji behind. Jisung watched them make their way up the steps very slowly, the sylph unsteady on his feet and hunched in on himself, but he uncurled a little as the last rays of sunlight hit him. His eyes fluttered shut and relief flooded his face, ragged wings stretching in the fresh sea air. Jisung’s anger, soothed by the bloodshed, flared up again at the thought of how long the sylph, a spirit of the wind and sky, might have been trapped in that box.

It was only when the sylph’s attention turned in Jisung’s direction that he remembered his state – liberally splashed with blood, clutching a dripping sword, and surrounded by corpses. Jisung held his breath, waiting for the sylph’s reaction and expecting horror.

But no. The sylph did not cower back from the violence. Rather, he seemed to relax, a look of vicious satisfaction chasing away the innocent relief in his expression. Despite the distance between them, Jisung could see those flaming eyes gleam bright and he felt slightly wrong-footed, unsure how to feel about this unexpected turn of events. Still, anything was better than terror and screaming.

‘You... killed them all,’ the sylph murmured as he inched closer, voice yet husky.

Stifled gasps and sharp intakes of breath rushed around the deck and Jisung flashed a quick glare, silently ordering everyone back to their tasks, only the women of his Guard staying by him and the sylph. ‘I did,’ he agreed, blade held down at his side. ‘I hope this does not displease you.’

Orange-gold eyes flicked up to meet his, less feral than once they had been but still wary, untrusting. ‘Why would it displease me?’

Tilting his head, Jisung replied, ‘Perhaps you wished to mete out your own revenge in recompense for the hurt they caused you.’

The sylph shivered, thin arms wrapping around his chest, moulting wings tucked close, but his expression was one of supressed glee rather than discomfort. ‘No,’ he said at last.

Taking the answer at face value, Jisung switched topic and asked, ‘Where do you go now, sylph? I promised that you would be free and I meant it.’

Never mind that all he wanted to do was bundle the sylph up in thick furs and feed him delicious things till he was healthy again. Jisung was used to getting what he wanted (it came with the territory), but not only would he be just as bad as the pirates if he forced the sylph to accept any assistance, Jisung got the impression that the sylph would fight to the death – whether his own or someone else’s – if his newly acquired sense of freedom was impugned upon.

A chill southerly breeze ruffled the sylph’s feathers and limp black hair, and though goosebumps rose on his skin, his eyes continued to burn. ‘I don’t know.’ He bit his lip and glanced back at his ragged wings, mouth turning downwards. ‘I can’t fly like this.’

Jisung’s grip tightened on his sword hilt – he knew a chance when he saw one. ‘Come with me then,’ he suggested smoothly. ‘We head east to the Tymon Triumvirate.’ Three craggy islands that made up the heart of the Empire. ‘My navigator tells me we are three weeks out and I would be glad to see to your needs taken care of until then. Longer, if you require.’

Dangerous words, those ones, but adrenaline lingered in Jisung’s blood and he felt at once recklessly bold and coolly calculating. Out here on the waves, days from the nearest glimpse of land, there was no greater authority than him except Nature, so if _she_ didn’t challenge him, well, no-one could. No-one had _the right_ , not against the Crown Prince.

The sylph regarded Jisung with a single-minded intensity he usually only saw in those trying to kill him. Bright eyes narrowed, digging into him, seeking out his core, and Jisung bore the scrutiny calmly. No matter his own interests, he wouldn’t force the sylph’s hand.

At length, the sylph inclined his head a fraction. ‘You won’t lock me up. You won’t... hurt me.’

The iron taste of rage coated Jisung’s tongue and he had to rub it off against his teeth before he could speak. ‘I won’t,’ he vowed.

‘Then I accept.’

Jisung smiled, the tension in his shoulders melting away. ‘Excellent. Do you have a name we may call you by?’

The sylph started, fiery eyes wide as he glanced around, seemingly having forgotten the unobtrusive presence of the Guardswomen. ‘No,’ he hummed, giving Jisung a veiled look. ‘Not yet.’

Brows rising in surprise, Jisung nonetheless nodded his understanding. He could wait. Most people took his frequent displays of impatience as an inability to _be_ patient, but that was simply not the case. ‘Very well, sylph.’ Jisung stepped back, gesturing with his bloody sword towards the lavish vessel bobbing alongside the pirates’ one. ‘Will you join me on my ship? We’ll be ready to move on soon.’

A shadow of a smile. ‘Lead the way, Crown Prince.’

Jisung allotted one of the rooms in his quarters for the sylph’s personal use. He offered to lend his bed as well, there being no spare mattresses on board, but the sylph refused. Instead, the winged man made himself something of a nest out of silken blankets, thick furs, and fat pillows. Still skittish around any of them, though a little less so the Guardswomen and Jisung, the sylph accepted a pitcher of scalding water, a jar of healing salve, and fresh clothes before retreating to his new room and firmly shutting the door. Jisung wondered that he did not ask for food or drink and was a little concerned his guest might collapse from exhaustion while hidden away, but he decided to trust the sylph’s judgement for now. Still, he had Chaeryoung stand guard outside the door and keep a sharp ear open for anything untoward.

It was a couple of hours later according to the bronze timepiece hanging on the wall, the ship quiet but for the distant noises of the night watch on deck and the gentle lapping of the sea, that Chaeryoung led the sylph to Jisung’s main room. His bed occupied the far end of the spacious cabin and their entrance found him muttering to himself and scrawling notes in a booklet at the map-strewn table in front of it.

‘The sylph asked to see you, _seja-jeoha_ ,’ Chaeryoung stated.

And behind her stood the sylph himself, clad in a simple white tunic and loose black _baji_ tied around his narrow waist. The hems were all too short, exposing bony ankles and wrists, but the sylph was slender enough that it would do for now. He’d clearly washed himself, his black hair hanging in damp strands around his face and some of the grime gone from his skin. The silvery-grey of his feathers gleamed in the lamplight and Jisung hoped he’d torn the back of the shirt open wide enough for the sylph’s wings to comfortably fit through.

Fiery eyes met Jisung’s and the prince felt everything within him stand to attention, fixated on the sylph just as keenly as the sylph was focused on him.

‘Thank you, Chaeryoung,’ Jisung said in dismissal.

She dipped a shallow bow and left, quietly closing the door behind her.

‘Come, eat something,’ Jisung invited, gesturing towards the trays of food on the table. Ryujin had brought them in not long ago and he’d been about to start. ‘It looks like it’s been a while since your last meal.’

‘It has,’ the sylph agreed, doing a swift visual sweep of the room before slowly approaching the table.

‘I’m afraid I don’t know what your kind eats but if there’s something else I can get you, you need only ask.’ Jisung poured another cup of water from the small pitcher of beaten metal and offered it to the sylph.

He stared at it, then at Jisung.

‘It’s just water. I would not abuse a guest’s trust by adulterating it.’

The sylph didn’t move. ‘Prove it.’

One brow arched, Jisung nonetheless complied, taking a sip and exaggeratedly swallowing it. He held out the water again.

Careful not to make any physical contact, the sylph came near enough that he could reach out and close his long fingers around the cup, accepting it. Holding Jisung’s gaze, he tipped his head back and poured a little liquid into his mouth. Jisung looked away before he could do something stupid like stare at the sylph’s red lips or follow the movement of his throat as he swallowed.

‘Hmm, perhaps you spoke true, Crown Prince,’ the sylph murmured.

The part of Jisung that was instilled with a prince’s arrogance (admittedly, quite a large part) growled, hackles raised that the sylph had not simply taken his word without question, but he shoved that response down deep. He was not dealing with a human, let alone a subject of his father’s Empire, and as such, he could demand nothing from the sylph.

‘I’m pleased you agree,’ was all Jisung said, retrieving a second pair of chopsticks and sitting on the far side of the table. He set them and an empty bowl on the side closer to the sylph, tilting his head in curiosity, as though he couldn’t feel the low current of tension buzzing in the air. ‘Sit with me.’

The sylph had that look on his face again, like he was digging through Jisung’s head one thought at a time. It was an appraisal, this foreign creature judging if Jisung was a threat or not, predator or prey.

Jisung kept his expression politely blank, a shallow pool in which he was determined the sylph would find nothing to be wary of. ‘Unless you’d like to dine alone?’

‘No,’ the winged man replied after a pause. He knelt gracefully, joining Jisung at the table, feathers rustling with an oddly metallic sound as he resettled them. ‘What do we eat, Crown Prince?’

Ryujin had delivered Jisung the food on two trays. One bore steaming _doenjang-jjigae_ , the rich soybean paste stew with its seasonal dried mushrooms creating a mouth-watering aroma, and bowls of sticky rice and _kimchi_ , and the other with a selection of _banchan_. This late into the voyage back from the farthest end of the Empire, fresh vegetables were in short supply and there were several types of _kimchi_ , but Jisung had a fondness for fermented greens so that was alright.

He explained all of the items to the sylph, who gave no signs of distaste. Having been intending to have rice wine with his dinner, Jisung decided to stick with water tonight. It wouldn’t do to have anything less than complete control of all his faculties while interacting with the sylph. Jisung said a quiet word of thanks for the meal and they started in, the sylph being almost offensively careful about trying a dish only after Jisung had done so.

As they ate, Jisung noted with some surprise that the sylph handled his chopsticks with reasonable ease and seemed pleased with all the flavours. Had he been in the Empire a while, before whatever had happened to land him in the hold of a pirate ship? And on _that_ note, for someone as malnourished as the sylph, he was eating with remarkable restraint. Either he possessed an ungodly amount of self-control or he wasn’t as hungry as he looked like he should be.

‘Did you have everything you needed in your room?’ Jisung asked midway through the meal.

The sylph swallowed his mouthful of fermented cucumber and spring onion. ‘Yes. I will be able to rest well in there.’ A flicker of flaming gold before he turned his attention to the stew. ‘Thank you for the salve.’

Jisung paused. ‘We have a physician on board if you need any further attention.’

Lips wet with broth twisted into an odd sort of smile that disappeared as quickly as it came. ‘The salve and some rest will be enough. My injuries are... nothing serious.’

Grip tightening on his chopsticks, Jisung forced himself to nod in acquiescence. Keen to change the topic, he commented, ‘Sylphs are a rare sight in the Empire, certainly this far from the outer regions. Did you have business here before...?’

The sylph exhaled through his nose, not quite a snort. ‘Before I was beaten senseless and locked in a box?’

Jisung kept his gaze level as replied, ‘Yes.’

Fire sparked in orange-gold eyes. ‘Of a sort. My homeland... well, it’s a restless place. Dangerously so at present. I sought safety in the human territories.’

Well, wasn’t _that_ interesting. So little was known about the sylphs, including how they lived – were they nomadic? Sedentary? Small settlements or hidden cities? This titbit implied that perhaps there was enough structure in their society for organised unrest.

‘Civil war?’ Jisung asked lightly.

But the sylph shook his head, a sardonic smile curling around his mouth. ‘There’s nothing civil about us, Crown Prince.’

‘If it’s refuge you seek, permit me to extend an open invitation for you to stay at the palace as my guest.’

‘Are you in a habit of inviting strangers into the inner sanctum of your empire?’ the sylph queried, delicately picking up a piece of tofu.

Jisung allowed himself a faint smile. ‘No, but then you are hardly a stranger. Not only are you an esteemed visitor whom the Emperor would be delighted to meet, I have already spilled blood on your behalf.’

The sylph went still, chopsticks midway to his mouth. ‘Indeed you have, Crown Prince. And I have not thanked you for it yet, have I?’

‘Given the circumstances, I wasn’t expecting you to,’ Jisung assured him.

‘But I should,’ the sylph decided firmly, lowering his utensils, his stare intense. ‘My poor judgement and ill-considered decisions landed me in a situation that would have killed me. I thank you for sparing me such a consequence, Crown Prince.’ He bowed his head deeply, long fringe nearly brushing the bowls, before straightening again. ‘In return, I offer you my name.’

Brows lifting slightly in surprise, Jisung said, ‘I accept your thanks and your name, sylph.’

‘It has been... a long time since I last shared my name,’ the sylph confessed, thick lashes veiling his eyes, ‘but you may call me by it. I am Hyunjin, last of my name.’

The odd epithet piqued Jisung’s curiosity but he refrained from commenting on it. ‘I am honoured, Hyunjin,’ he murmured. ‘I will guard your name well.’

‘Please do,’ Hyunjin requested seriously. ‘Our names are private.’

‘And yet you have entrusted yours to a human?’ Surely he understood Jisung’s puzzlement.

There was not so much as a hint of levity in Hyunjin’s tone and his gaze weighed heavily upon Jisung as he countered, ‘I owe you my life.’

A hush fell over the table as they stared at one another.

_How valuable a name must be if it can be weighed against a life debt,_ Jisung mused. Out loud, he said, ‘Then I will only say your name when there is no-one else to hear it.’

Hyunjin relaxed slightly, wings shifting behind him. ‘Thank you, Crown Prince.’

‘And you will call me by _my_ name too.’ There were very few people with permission to use Jisung’s name but it seemed appropriate to extend that right to a sylph.

Hyunjin tilted his head to one side, curling strands of damp hair sliding across his skin. ‘Very well, Jisung.’

The rest of the meal passed in silence, comfortable but for the fine, fine hum of tension in the air between them. Only after it was finished and Jisung saw Hyunjin back to his room and he was halfway to bed did Jisung realise he hadn’t asked the sylph about his curious lack of hunger. He hadn’t even eaten an especially large portion of the _doenjang-jjigae_.

_One more question to add to the list_ , Jisung thought, and then he went to sleep.

_(Heat._

_Smoke._

_Orange and gold and red._

_Burning, crackling._

_Fire._

_The fire was all around, pressing closer, devouring the air, destroying the floor and walls and ceiling. Breathing was hard, smoke catching in his lungs, making his eyes sting and water. He stumbled forward, looking for an escape, but the roaring flames reached hungrily for him and he recoiled, trapped and choking and sweating._

_Fear, primal and vicious, dug its claws into him and his breath quickened, forcing him to his knees as he coughed and spluttered. He needed to get out, needed to get to the deck before the cabin collapsed on top of him, but how could he do that when he couldn’t even stand up? When he couldn’t even breathe?_

_The terror grew, flowing through him like the ocean poured into a single jug, and he twisted and turned, desperation making him wild as the cabin that might become his coffin creaked and groaned, and there was nowhere to go, no way through the flames –_

‘Jisung.’

_A voice behind him._

_A voice he recognised._

_He turned and saw a figure moving through the fire towards him, two pairs of wings spread wide, grey feathers glittering and dripping something dark and viscous, plush lips stretched in a wide smile beneath eyes that burned, burned, burned –)_

Jisung sat bolt upright. It took him a split second to remember where he was and understand that the fire had just been part of a nightmare. The air was cool on his sweaty skin. He could breathe freely, panting as though he’d run around the ship a dozen times. His hands trembled against his blankets, the furs having been kicked further down the bed in his sleep, and he clenched his fists in the fabric, grounding himself.

Still caught up in the vestiges of the awful dream, Jisung scrambled gracelessly out of bed and padded on bare feet to the door. There were no flickering flames consuming his cabin, the only light coming through the two small portholes on either side of the room. He undid the latch and let himself out, almost immediately running into Ryujin, who was standing guard tonight. She gave him an appraising look, no doubt noting his dishevelled state, but when he said nothing, she only nodded in greeting.

‘All quiet?’ he rasped eventually, not quite able to make himself go back inside without asking.

‘Yes, _seja-jeoha_ ,’ she replied calmly. ‘No disturbances, including from the sylph’s room.’

Of course not. Why would there be? Jisung was running on leftover adrenaline from a nightmare, that was all. In the unlikely event that a fire did start, Ryujin would be in his cabin like a shot and hauling him to safety, even if that meant shoving him through one of those portholes.

‘Good,’ Jisung muttered, bidding her goodnight and closing his door once more.

It took him a while to get back to sleep but when he woke again to the early morning light pouring in, Jisung scarcely remembered what he’d dreamed about that had unsettled him so.

\--

The days were uneventful after that. Well, as uneventful as they could be with the ship’s new passenger, which turned out to be reasonably, as Hyunjin remained wary of the crew and stuck to the edges of the ship where he was least likely to be disturbed. Sometimes Jisung would come up from his cabin to find Hyunjin perched on the bowsprit or occupying the otherwise empty captain’s deck. Occasionally, Hyunjin would have his wings extended and they seemed to shimmer in the sunlight, but he always folded them back when approached. The crew did a terrible job of not staring and whispering about his presence for the first week but they minded his preference for space and eventually grew used to him.

Then there was the fact that Hyunjin didn’t seem to eat at all except when he had dinner with Jisung, which happened every two or three nights. Jisung brought this up with him one evening and Hyunjin responded with a shallow smile, informing him that sylphs didn’t require much physical food. Of course, that begged the question of what sort of food they _did_ eat, but Hyunjin brushed Jisung off when asked and as his physical state did seem to be slowly improving, Jisung reluctantly left it at that.

Oh, and the nightmares became a regular event as well. Likewise, they did not occur nightly but several times over the span of a week Jisung would wake deep in the night in a blind panic, drenched in sweat and shaking, convinced he was about to burn alive while the ship collapsed around him. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that this probably had something to do with the sylph but Hyunjin gave absolutely no sign of being aware of the dreams and, come morning, the details of the nightmare always managed to slip through Jisung’s fingers. So, despite the gradual toll the violent disruptions to his sleep were taking on him, Jisung didn’t mention it to Hyunjin.

\--

A fortnight after the pirate incident, Hyunjin was late up to the deck and when he arrived, he was faced with an unusual scene. A handful of the crew were scattered around on the sides of the ship, perched on barrels, or hooked into the rigging, all of them watching the main deck. It was empty but for Chaeryoung and Jisung, who had both stripped down somewhat, their feet bare, and who were engaged in fierce hand-to-hand combat.

Jisung and Chaeryoung were of a similar height and while she lacked some of his muscle mass, the Guardswoman was agile and strong. Not five seconds after the sylph emerged from the cabins, Jisung spotted him and his focus wavered for a brief moment, allowing Chaeryoung to break through his defence and knock him flat onto his back. Jisung’s breath whooshed out of him and he winced when his head smacked the ground, the men arrayed around the deck calling out in encouragement and wincing in sympathy.

Chaeryoung raised an unimpressed brow at the prince and extended a hand to pull him to his feet. ‘Admiring the scenery, sir?’

Jisung scowled, accepting her hand and rolling his head on his shoulders. ‘Our guest has joined us.’

‘Ah.’ She didn’t turn to corroborate his words, not being one for taking her eyes off her opponent (or sparring partner) until the session was finished. ‘Do you prefer looking at him than at your enemy?’

‘You’re not my enemy, Chaeryoung,’ Jisung grumbled, not answering the question when he knew she wasn’t looking for one. Sweat prickled across his forehead and he swiped it away with the back of his arm.

‘Hmm.’

That was all the warning she gave before striking out at his midriff with a flat hand, veins standing out under her skin, but Jisung had seen Chaeryoung transfer her weight and sidestepped before she could hit him. Observation was something he’d been drilled on long before his lessons had included any practical fighting training and before she’d completed her movement, her body tipping forward just a fraction, Jisung swept out with one leg to hook her ankle. Chaeryoung was nimble, though, and she shifted her momentum in an instant, jerking her knee up towards his face. Jisung exhaled sharply as he dropped into a crouch, placing his shoulder right under her raised shin, and launched himself up again to shove her off her feet.

Only, Chaeryoung was already pivoting and throwing herself backwards, her back rolling across his shoulder as she wrapped an arm around his head and hauled him with her. There was no escaping the steely clamp of her bicep and forearm so Jisung didn’t fight it, just tightened his abdominal muscles and went _down_ instead of letting her pull him flat onto his back again. Chaeryoung hissed a curse as she was forced to release him or land hard on her skull and she pushed off him completely. Jisung allowed himself a brief flicker of pride as slammed out an arm beneath himself, shoving himself upright and spinning around to face her. They were both breathing hard, their stances settling.

Chaeryoung quirked one corner of her mouth up in a quick smile, ignoring the delighted hollering of the crew members around them. ‘Well done, _seja-jeoha._ ’

He grinned at her, keeping one eye on her feet and the other on her shoulders. ‘I’ve learned from the best. Does that make _me_ the best now?’

She snorted, bending her knees slightly, her weight rolling onto the balls of her feet in such an obvious tell that it could only mean she was going to do something else entirely. ‘You have yet to score a point against me, sir. Keeping me from gaining another doesn’t win you any prizes.’

Jisung opened his mouth to protest but Chaeryoung was done waiting and she feinted high left convincingly enough that Jisung _almost_ fell for it before she redirected lower right, aiming for his hip with her shoulder. There was no time to swear (she _knew_ he still struggled with full-frontal attacks) so Jisung moved instead, darting out of the way to the left and seizing Chaeryoung’s wrist, stepping in close behind her, intent upon twisting her arm, but she was already spinning and yanking him in. Her right arm flew towards his head but Jisung grabbed that wrist with his right hand and Chaeryoung snarled as she realised her arms were crossed, both caught.

Before she could do something drastic like jump on him, Jisung went to headbutt her, which she’d been expecting and therefore avoided him easily – at the same time as he inserted one leg behind hers and jerked it back. Chaeryoung’s eyes blew wide in shock as her weight was tipped irrevocably towards the ground. But she really was the _best_ hand combat expert in the Triumvirate and she found enough momentum in pressing down on Jisung’s leg to lift her other leg and wrap it around his waist, twisting her hips and wrenching them sideways just in time for Jisung to land underneath her.

‘You have to be _fucking_ joking,’ Jisung hissed between gritted teeth as his head hit the ground for the second time in almost as many minutes. ‘Is your stomach made of _steel?’_

Chaeryoung leaned down till they were nose to nose, her lips parted in a slightly feral grin. ‘Quit whining, _seja-jeoha_ , and free yourself.’

Jisung growled and forced them into a roll so she was under him, her entangled legs making it hard for her to stop him, and Chaeryoung shoved up with her crossed arms, seeking to hit his windpipe and wind him. Jisung simply tensed his shoulders and allowed her to push him upright before yanking her arms out wide and throwing his weight forward to pin her wrists to the ground. Chaeryoung pushed back, testing the strength of his hold, but Jisung was already freeing his legs and pulling them up just in time to restrain her thighs under his knees. Her feet were still unrestricted, however, and he knew from experience that Chaeryoung’s legs were strong enough to fell a man thrice his weight, so Jisung hitched himself up into a brief handspring (Chaeryoung winced at his weight on her wrists and he refused to feel guilty). He came down again before she could get her legs between them and kick him off but she’d guessed he was going for her throat and his shin hit her chin instead as she tucked her head down.

No matter – Jisung was now crouched above her shoulders and he braced his knees on either side of her head, releasing her wrists and seizing her head firmly enough that he could snap her neck if she so much as twitched.

Chaeryoung huffed out a laugh, her limbs thudding to the deck. ‘Yield.’

Jisung sprang to his feet, buzzing with glee, and hauled her up after him. _‘Finally,’_ he crowed, delighted and not a little breathless. ‘Gods, that’s only taken fifteen years!’

‘Mmm, perhaps we’d better leave it here, then,’ she commented drily. ‘Somehow I don’t think you’ll be focusing –’

She cut herself off, attention flicking past Jisung as she automatically straightened, her guard rising. Anticipation curled in Jisung’s gut as he turned and he was unsurprised to see that Hyunjin had drifted closer, all eyes on him now, a hush befalling the scene. Hyunjin’s fiery gaze snapped from Chaeryoung to Jisung, his expression interested, his body language open. Jisung knew what he was going to ask before he’d even drawn breath to speak his question.

‘May I try?’ A shadow fell across Hyunjin’s face, his upper pair of faintly shimmering wings arched overhead.

Chaeryoung stepped forward. ‘Do you have martial training, sylph? Your body is still healing.’

‘I do,’ Hyunjin replied, his focus never wavering from Jisung, an intensity that was stranger, heavier than usual about him. ‘And my body is more than well enough for this.’

His tone was mild, pleasant even, but Jisung felt the hairs on his nape stand on end, something in that husky voice catching his attention, instincts hissing _danger, danger_.

From the way Chaeryoung squared her shoulders, her mouth a flat line, there was no doubt that she’d heard the edge too, but she simply asked, _‘Seja-jeoha?’_

She watched Hyunjin unblinkingly as he was watched Jisung and Jisung watched them both.

‘Why not?’ Jisung said, despite the certainty that there was a subtext here which only the sylph understood. ‘We’ll do a practise round.’

Hyunjin cocked his head, inquisitive.

‘You have a significant advantage over me, sylph,’ Jisung explained, arching a brow. ‘I know nothing about your style of fighting.’

The corner of Hyunjin’s mouth twitched up in a slight smirk. ‘Of course.’

Quiet mumbling rippled through the cluster of onlookers as Jisung and Hyunjin moved to the centre of the deck, Chaeryoung taking up a position nearby to keep a close watch on them.

‘Substitute hits for taps,’ she instructed, arms folded across her chest. ‘First to three wins the round. Taps on a defensive block don’t count.’

Jisung nodded, bouncing on the balls of his feet. That was standard for practise bouts.

‘Your top is too loose, sylph,’ Chaeryoung continued. ‘Remove it or use something tighter.’

As if on cue, a brisk breeze blew past, ruffling everyone’s hair and Hyunjin’s ill-fitting shirt. Chaeryoung and Jisung were in sleeveless tunics designed for such training but Jisung didn’t think he’d have anything that would work any better for Hyunjin, not least because the two sets of wings required the back to be torn out of any shirt Hyunjin tried to wear.

Hyunjin shrugged a shoulder, already reaching back to undo the makeshift tie at his nape and the one under the arch of his lower pair of wings. ‘I don’t mind,’ he murmured.

For one blissfully naïve moment, neither did Jisung. Then Hyunjin tugged the shirt down his arms and tossed it to one side, leaving his upper body bare, and Jisung nearly choked on his tongue. He contained his reaction better than any of the startled crew members but Hyunjin’s gaze hadn’t shifted from him and the sylph’s smirk returned.

Hyunjin’s torso was still on the wrong side of lean, although it was far less pronounced now. There was scarcely enough fat on him to soften the jut of his bones, let alone hide the sinuous ropes of muscle under his skin. But Jisung had seen highly muscular figures before, as had everyone else on deck. This was unexpected, perhaps, but certainly not shocking. The scars, however, _they_ were shocking. Hyunjin didn’t look like someone who’d been through a war or two – he looked like someone who’d been born on the battlefield and raised there, every inch of tanned skin criss-crossed with silvery scar tissue. Many of them were small and fairly neat, evidence of careful tending, but some were large and snarled, echoes of violence clinging to their twisted shapes.

Memories of their first dinner together flashed through Jisung’s mind and he hummed contemplatively. ‘Nothing civil about your kind, hmm?’ he muttered.

Hyunjin inclined his head in a measured nod, his smirk broadening into a pleased smile. ‘That’s right, Crown Prince. Nothing civil at all.’

Which was interesting not only in and of itself but also because Hyunjin’s behaviour for the past fortnight had been the very epitome of civility. However, now was hardly the time for such musings and Jisung settled into a relaxed stance, tension coiling in his limbs. Hyunjin’s smile faded, replaced by sheer focus as he mirrored Jisung’s pose.

‘Any hints before we begin?’ Jisung asked, hearing the subtle quiver of anticipation in his voice.

‘I’m fast,’ Hyunjin replied, and there was a vibrant thread of _challenge_ in his words.

‘Begin,’ Chaeryoung commanded.

And Jisung learned very, very quickly that the sylph hadn’t been bragging at all. For someone with four large wings growing out of his back, Hyunjin moved with ridiculous speed and incredible agility. Jisung barely had time to throw up a block before Hyunjin was right up in his space and jabbing at his throat with two rigid fingers. Deflecting the attack, Jisung had no time to think before slicing out with one arm away from his hip as Hyunjin aimed a punch at his ribs. It turned out that Hyunjin was also stronger than he looked and when Jisung smacked his forearm into Hyunjin’s wrist, shoving him away with no thought for catching him – _too fast, too fast_ – Jisung knew he’d be left with a bruise.

Hyunjin pivoted on the ball of his right foot and swept his left knee up to the other side of Jisung’s ribs, currently unprotected, and the prince sucked in his belly as he darted back, avoiding being hit by the slimmest of margins. Any thoughts Jisung had of pressing an attack of his own were cast aside as Hyunjin, side on and with four very vulnerable-looking wings on his back, swivelled and lashed out at his knee. Jisung didn’t like the odds of blocking that and he jumped, avoiding the blow and scissoring his legs to kick Hyunjin square in the chest. Chaeryoung was the only person Jisung knew who might have been able to dodge such an attack at close range but Hyunjin’s arm blurred up and somehow he had his hand under Jisung’s ankle before the kick could land. He shoved upwards with enough force that Jisung’s momentum was reversed and Jisung had to throw himself into a backwards roll, landing _hard_ in a crouch, his focus completely shot for just a second –

A light wind tickled the side of Jisung’s face as Hyunjin brought his knee to a very sharp stop by the prince’s temple. Jisung froze.

‘My point,’ Hyunjin murmured into the dead silence.

Jisung glanced up, adrenaline shuddering through his blood, and he swallowed convulsively as his gaze flicked up Hyunjin’s bare torso to meet eyes of burning, glowing gold. Hyunjin’s lips were parted slightly as he breathed a little heavily but otherwise he seemed unaffected and it was with smooth control that he lowered his knee.

‘One point for the sylph,’ Chaeryoung confirmed at last, her tone appraising.

There were no whispers now, the observing crew members having gone silent, no doubt waiting to see Jisung’s reaction. He exhaled heavily and straightened up, lips pursed.

‘Your speed is impressive,’ Jisung commented easily, tipping his head towards Hyunjin. ‘I’m almost surprised I lasted as long as I did.’

Hyunjin blinked lazily. ‘So am I. Again?’

In response, Jisung resettled into a ready position and Hyunjin followed suit.

‘Begin,’ Chaeryoung barked.

The second bout lasted longer. Not because Jisung got faster or because he could predict how Hyunjin was going to move, but because he knew the value of spontaneity. Hyunjin might have watched Jisung and Chaeryoung go a couple of rounds but he was no expert on Jisung’s fighting skills and style. So Jisung tossed any script he had to the wind and trusted his instincts, making it much harder for Hyunjin to guess his next action. He felt a pulse of pride in his gut when he won, tapping the side of Hyunjin’s neck from behind the sylph with the blade of his hand.

‘My point,’ Jisung declared cheerfully, stepping away.

Hyunjin’s eyes narrowed, gold shifting to molten orange, but still he nodded. Flecks of silver among the grey feathers glinted in the sunlight as he flexed all four wings before tucking them close again and as Chaeryoung started the third round, Jisung found his attention drawn to those appendages which seemed so very vulnerable.

Of course, this was no place to be sidetracked and Jisung had the very distant understanding that Hyunjin likely knew exactly how distracting his actions were. Somehow, Jisung didn’t think Hyunjin was unfamiliar with the concept of psychological warfare.

Perhaps as a result of that deliberate distraction, the third round was fiercer, more ragged, both of them amping up their determination. There were a couple of moments when victory was a whisper away, only to be thwarted in a burst of sweat and adrenaline, fierce eyes and bared teeth. Then came a single vivid instant where Jisung had an opening, Hyunjin’s flank unguarded, and he didn’t pause to think, he just reached and seized the arch of one tightly contained wing and _wrenched_ Hyunjin sideways –

_‘Fuck!’_

Hyunjin staggered and Jisung recoiled, his hand burning –

_‘Seja-jeoha!’_

Chaeryoung’s voice was a whip, her touch fiercely protective as she threw herself between them and cradled Jisung’s hand, staring in horror at the gushing blood that drenched his skin.

‘Yeji!’ she roared.

Behind her, Hyunjin was already backing away, several furious crewmen turning in on him in righteous anger that he’d hurt their prince. Yeji was at Jisung’s side before he could begin to formulate a response, cursing a blue streak as she ripped off a sleeve to staunch the cuts and Jisung gasped in pain. Chaeryoung spun away, storming towards the retreating sylph with murderous intent, and Jisung broke through the fog of shock swathing him.

_‘Stop,’_ he barked, shrugging off Yeji’s worried hands and flashing a hard stare at the frozen soldiers. ‘All of you, leave him be. It was hardly a deliberate attack. _Was it_ , sylph?’

Hyunjin held his wings even more closely behind him and regarded the reluctantly retreating men in front of him. ‘No,’ he replied, voice low and hard, hands clenched into white-knuckled fists at his sides.

Chaeryoung didn’t move, a stalwart guard between the sylph and her prince. ‘You should have warned us about your wings before we started,’ she snapped.

‘You did not ask,’ Hyunjin retorted.

‘You _baited_ me,’ Jisung snarled, stalking towards him, pressing Yeji’s sleeve firmly to his hand and wishing for ice. Glancing around at the hesitant crewmen, he gritted out, ‘The show’s over, get back to work.’

They hastily dropped their gazes and scattered, none of them wishing to anger him any further, certainly not with a glowering Yeji and Chaeryoung in company too. Jisung passed an unmoving Chaeryoung and stopped toe to toe with Hyunjin, a scowl etched deeply into his face. Hyunjin’s expression was cold but his eyes blazed, giving him away, and heat poured off him like magma flowed through his veins instead of blood, sweat gilding his bare chest.

‘I didn’t take you for a sore loser,’ Jisung growled. Why else would Hyunjin have provoked him so?

‘You know _nothing_ about me,’ Hyunjin hissed, tilting forward into Jisung’s space.

Jisung’s lip curled. ‘Is that so? Well, I think it’s about time we change that. Wouldn’t want any more _accidents.’_ The cuts on his palm throbbed angrily as though on cue.

‘Or, what, you’ll break me? Kill me?’ Hyunjin sneered. ‘You’d hardly be the first to try, Crown Prince.’

Scoffing, Jisung lifted his chin, tilting his head back to level Hyunjin with a severely unimpressed look. ‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, hmm? I think the prospect of eating alone will be enough for you, but if I’m wrong you can get the fuck off my ship and find your own way to land.’

Hyunjin rocked back on his heels, jaw working as though chewing on something tough. He said nothing, however, and Jisung sensed he’d found a chink in the sylph’s armour.

‘Well?’ he pressed, arching a brow. ‘Do you have an answer or shall I leave you to sulk out here for the rest of the day?’

Hyunjin snarled but the sound was quiet, the fire in his eyes dimming, and at last he relented, ‘What answer do you want to hear?’

‘Take a wild guess, sylph,’ Jisung replied sharply.

With a muttered curse, Hyunjin snapped, _‘Fine._ You may ask me your questions.’

‘And will you answer?’

‘Yes. Some of them, at least.’

‘Hmm.’ Jisung stepped back. ‘Very well. I’ll see you for dinner, then. Try not to maim anyone in the meantime.’

With that, he spun on his heel and left the deck, Chaeryoung close behind, while Yeji stayed back, no doubt intending to keep an eye on Hyunjin. Not that Jisung didn’t want to drag Hyunjin off to his cabin immediately, but there was the pressing matter of his hand, which had almost entirely soaked through Yeji’s sleeve, and unfortunately the duties of a prince, even one at sea, did not stop for anything. Besides, Jisung thought a little grimly, he and the sylph could probably both do with some time to cool off before going head to head again.

‘Good evening.’

‘...How is your hand?’

A momentary pause, followed by a light shrug. ‘It will heal. The cuts were very clean and not deep.’ White linen was wrapped tightly around the hand in question. ‘I will ask you to pour tonight, however.’

Wordlessly, the _cheongju_ was poured into two small glasses, long fingers steady around the bottle. A moment of eye contact (the orange-gold flames were muted, a banked fire rather than a roaring blaze) and both shots were downed, prince and sylph exhaling on a slight hiss. The second round of fine rice wine was dealt and after the customary murmur of thanks, they both added a helping of _gochujang_ to their _hoe-deopbap,_ Jisung more than Hyunjin as the sylph didn’t seem to have much of a taste for spicy heat, and mixed the raw-fish-and-rice dishes with their spoons.

Jisung was content to let the silence sit for a while but after a few mouthfuls and another glass of _cheongju_ , he asked lightly, ‘How did you and Yeji get on?’

Hyunjin stilled, partway through lifting his spoon to his mouth. ‘No maiming occurred,’ he replied, ‘from either side.’

‘I’m pleased to hear it.’

The quiet rolled back in but it’d been broken once and now the air between them hummed with tension.

‘So.’

Silver-grey wings rustled as Hyunjin’s shoulders tightened.

‘Your feathers – are they razor-edged?’

Hyunjin glared at his food, lips pursed, but Jisung tutted.

‘Come now, you promised me answers.’

‘It isn’t... customary to speak of these things,’ Hyunjin gritted out.

Jisung burst out laughing, genuinely amused. ‘And you think _we_ usually let people who hurt the Crown Prince of the Blessed Empire off without punishment? It’s a bit late to be hiding behind such excuses, Hyunjin.’

_That_ got a response. Searing gold flashed across the sylph’s eyes as his head snapped up, his expression taut with anger. It only lasted for a second but that was long enough to make Jisung’s heart slam against his ribs. Adrenaline pumped through him but his satisfaction was stronger, pleased that he’d drawn Hyunjin out.

‘I am not _hiding,’_ Hyunjin spat, like the prince had mortally offended him.

‘Then _answer me,’_ Jisung snapped, forcibly relaxing his fingers around his spoon.

An inhuman growl rumbled out of Hyunjin’s chest. ‘Very well, _yes_ , the filaments lining each feather are bladed. Our wings would be an enormous vulnerability without this.’

Jisung made a considering noise, tapping his forefinger on the side of his bowl. ‘They slice flesh very neatly...’ He let his gaze flicker down to Hyunjin’s chest and back up.

Exhaling sharply, Hyunjin leaned back. ‘Yes. Many of my scars are caused by our feathers.’

‘So when you said that your kind aren’t civil at all –’

‘I meant it,’ Hyunjin interrupted. The anger melted away, replaced by cool calculation. ‘Humans coexist as easily as they turn on one another. With sylphs, that is not the case.’

The tapping ceased, Jisung’s brows inching up. ‘You... are always fighting?’

Hyunjin’s eyes seemed to glow behind the curtain of his dark fringe, his stare holding a predator’s focus. ‘Compassion is not something we were created with.’ Before Jisung could properly digest that, he continued firmly, ‘No more questions. I have satisfied your curiosity in return for wounding you.’

They returned to eating, though Jisung was considerably distracted by this point and he tasted none of the flavours he would usually savour. Hyunjin’s attention was fixed on his bowl but Jisung was certain that his thoughts were just as unfocused as Jisung’s own. If Hyunjin thought that they were done talking just because _he’d_ had enough, well, he had another thing coming.

‘What happened to land you in the hold of a pirate ship?’ Jisung eventually asked. It didn’t make sense to him that such a dangerous being as the sylph before him would allow himself to be caught by a ragtag bunch of scavengers.

Hyunjin froze. For a long moment, he didn’t even breathe. Then he sighed, as though deeply and utterly exhausted. The shimmering fire in his eyes dulled again, only the embers remaining, and Jisung was almost tempted to withdraw his question.

Almost.

‘Poor judgement and ill-considered decisions,’ Hyunjin murmured, echoing his words from their first meal together. He cut a sidelong glance at Jisung, a slight curl to his upper lip. ‘I made a mistake. I will _not_ repeat it.’

The viciousness lacing his tone took Jisung by surprise.

He considered his next words carefully before saying, ‘And yet you followed me so easily onto _my_ ship, putting yourself at the mercy of humans you did not know once more.’

Hyunjin’s mouth twitched and his eyes turned away, but Jisung had the impression that he was hiding a burst of amusement, not displeasure, and it needled at him, his hackles rising automatically. He got the uncomfortable feeling he was missing something important.

‘What?’ Jisung demanded, a little more tersely than intended. ‘Was my statement incorrect?’

Orange-gold eyes darted his way and yes, that was definitely a smirk, slow and secretive, lodged at the corner of Hyunjin’s mouth. ‘You are very certain that my being here means that I have put myself in your power... Jisung. I wonder what has led you to that conclusion.’

Jisung tensed, uneasy. ‘You were half-starved and weakened to the point of being unable to fly when I found you.’

The smirk broadened. ‘Indeed I was.’

Was he being baited again? It seemed likely.

‘Your wings are healed?’ Jisung asked, his tone slightly too forced to come across naturally.

‘Oh yes,’ Hyunjin all but purred.

Gods above, he was hard to keep up with. Jisung couldn’t tell which questions Hyunjin might be upset by and which might amuse him and he was less than clueless about the _reasons_ behind the responses. It was like having a conversation without knowing the central topic, keeping him guessing and fumbling, never quite able to seize control.

_Nothing ventured, nothing gained,_ Jisung thought in resignation, and, entirely ignoring his meal now, he placed his hands on the table, palms separated but fingertips touching. ‘Perhaps I am being inexcusably obtuse,’ he began, ‘but the conclusion I drew seems perfectly reasonable to me, given the knowledge I possessed at the time I made it.’

Hyunjin sat up straighter, head tipped towards Jisung, a pleased smile still on his lips. ‘Would you reach a different conclusion if you were presented with the same situation now?’

‘Yes,’ Jisung answered truthfully. ‘Now I know you well enough to understand that you would never willingly put yourself in another’s power, Hyunjin, and you accepted my invite here much too quickly for someone supposedly without any other options.’

A breathless little laugh escaped Hyunjin, his stare intense. ‘My, my, you are a sharp one. Will you not ask me, then, why I left an uncomfortable but controlled environment to follow you?’

And here was where Jisung turned the matter over to the gods and hoped for the best.

‘No.’ He was not uncertain now, the adrenaline of the conversation and the one he _knew_ to be happening between the lines, even if he could not quite read it, humming through his veins. ‘You would not answer.’

Hyunjin’s teeth gleamed in the lamplight as he grinned outright. ‘Ask me another question,’ he challenged. ‘The one that’s been lurking on the back of your tongue for days, that you think I have not seen hidden behind your teeth each morning. I will answer you honestly.’

Jisung’s pulse skipped a beat and doubled its pace. He did not let himself dwell on the implications of the sylph’s observations, simply asked, ‘Can you interfere with dreams? Have you been reaching into mine?’

‘No,’ Hyunjin said immediately. His air of delight hadn’t faded one jot. ‘To both of those, no.’

Well. Jisung fought the urge to slump in confused relief. If Hyunjin wasn’t responsible for his recurring nightmares (if he really was being honest), then what the hell was?

‘That will do for one night, I think,’ Hyunjin continued, his smile a fraction gentler. ‘I’m afraid my appetite has deserted me and left me tired. By your leave, I will return to my bed, Jisung.’

Their meal was barely half-finished but Jisung found himself nodding anyway. He wasn’t particularly hungry anymore, either, though more because his mind was racing a thousand miles a minute than because he was tired. He rose to his feet and Hyunjin followed suit.

‘Good night and... thank you for your answers, Hyunjin,’ Jisung said softly.

Hyunjin’s smile faded, that harrowing intensity creeping back into his expression. For a wild second, Jisung thought the sylph might jump the table and devour him whole, but then Hyunjin blinked and the moment was gone.

‘Sleep well,’ Hyunjin murmured, before turning away.

As Jisung watched the door close behind those faintly shimmering wings, a truly mad part of him hoped that he did _not_ sleep well so that he might see Hyunjin sooner.

_(Heat._

_Smoke._

_Orange and gold and red._

_Burning, crackling._

_Fire._

_It enclosed the room, surrounding him, assaulting his senses. Dread washed through him in nauseating waves as he looked for an escape and found none, the heat forcing him back from the walls and the smoke forcing him to the ground in an effort to breathe easily. But he couldn’t stay down, he’d die here, he had to get_ out _, had to get_ free _before the ceiling collapsed on him, before the walls gave way and the ocean drowned him._

_Fear made his breathing speed up, rattling gasps tearing out of his chest as he searched the room again and again and_ _again –_

‘Jisung.’

_A voice behind him._

_A voice he recognised._

_He turned and saw a shadow in the flames, a figure he_ knew _walking calmly through the fire that reached for him, mercilessly hungry. It coalesced into a man with grey wings and burning eyes, gleaming teeth and a tapestry of scars on his skin._

_The man – no, the sylph incited terror in him._

_But the sylph also meant safety._

_The sylph walked out of the flames and left bloody, ashen footprints in his wake._

‘Jisung.’

_He lay still on the ground, frozen with fear and indecision, and the sylph stopped in front of him, smiling so widely._

‘Do you want to live?’

_Yes. Yes, he did. It wasn’t his time to die, not now, not yet, he wasn’t ready to go, he needed to escape before –_

_Scalding fingers under his chin, dragging his head up, forcing him to meet that all-encompassing, overwhelming stare. The fire that raged around him flickered in those eyes and he was trapped, helpless, the world crumbling away beneath him._

‘What would you sacrifice? What would you give?’

_Anything. Everything. Nothing he has is worth an agonising death amongst the greedy flames._

‘So be it.’

_The sylph stretches out a hand, reaches past his head and suddenly there is pressure on his back, a pressure which turns sharp and awful and he screams and screams –)_

Sleep did not return to Jisung that night. After the nightmare, so very visceral he feared he’d be watching for flames over his shoulder even under the noonday sun, he couldn’t relax enough to even sit down in his cabin. So he left, going out onto the main deck, Yeji a silent presence drifting behind him, and making his way to the prow. No-one interrupted him, leaving Jisung with only the cool night air, the quiet wash of the waves against the ship, and thousands of stars overhead for company. A salt-laced breeze pushed past him, brushing back his hair and raising goosebumps over his skin under the loose fabric of his nightshirt. Jisung leaned into it, elbows braced on the prow railing, allowing the endless tranquillity of the sea and the night to calm his thudding heart.

He remained alone until he did not. The only warning Jisung had of incoming company was a faint yet distinctive rustling sound from somewhere up high and he looked up in time to see a shadow dive down from the sky, landing with impeccable precision on the far end of the bowsprit.

Jisung tensed. Had Yeji noticed?

The shadowy figure crept closer, weaving itself between the forestays, and lamplight glinted off its – _his_ – feathers.

Jisung exhaled a controlled breath and murmured, ‘She’ll see your wings if you keep coming this way. They trust you even less than they did before you cut my hand and Yeji’s eyes are sharp as a hawk’s.’

Hyunjin stilled. There was a soft noise that might have been a sigh or might have been the wind and then he simply rolled off the bowsprit towards the gently rolling waves below. Jisung sucked in a startled breath, barely managing to restrain a flinch as he waited for a splash that never came. It was hard to make out much in the dim light but the rustling of razor-edged feathers came again and suddenly Hyunjin was swooping up out of the gloom till he was just below the prow, safely out of sight for anyone further back than Jisung. He wrapped an arm around the base of the bowsprit for balance, his four beautiful wings beating to keep him aloft, and grinned up at the frozen prince.

‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost,’ Hyunjin snickered.

Jisung made a quiet sound of disgruntlement as he glared down at the sylph. ‘Well, I wasn’t expecting any of _that_. I thought you were going to hit the water.’

Starlight gleamed off white teeth, golden eyes shining bright. ‘Have you no faith in my abilities, Crown Prince?’

‘I told you to call me Jisung when we’re alone,’ Jisung said, side-stepping the question as his brow furrowed.

Grin slipping away, Hyunjin retorted, ‘And are we alone?’

Jisung blinked, brought up short. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You come to me with shadows behind your eyes.’ Hyunjin’s wings pushed powerfully through the air and he rose a little higher. ‘You look like you are seeking solitude but are yet to find it.’

Something unfamiliar uncoiled in Jisung’s belly in response to Hyunjin’s words. If anything, Hyunjin had to come to _him_ , not the other way around, but hearing it like that... Well. Jisung attempted to ignore the odd feeling.

‘Did you lie to me?’ It wasn’t what he’d meant to say but it worked well enough.

Hyunjin cocked his head but didn’t ask for details. ‘No, Jisung, I did not. I gave you only the truth as I know it.’

Jisung looked away towards the distant horizon. ‘I don’t know whether to believe that. I probably shouldn’t, on principle.’

‘Don’t you trust me?’ The smile was audible.

‘I shouldn’t,’ Jisung repeated lowly. The horizon swam in his vision and he blinked rapidly. ‘Princes shouldn’t trust anyone, certainly not those with a throne waiting for them.’

Oh dear. He was being terribly loose-tongued. Perhaps he could blame it on the night, the way it blanketed everything so gently, so thoroughly. It made Jisung feel as though he had not woken in the same world he’d gone to sleep in.

Hyunjin hummed. ‘But I am not talking to the Crown Prince. I am talking to Jisung.’ He paused, before deliberately adding, ‘Aren’t I?’

Jisung swallowed thickly. This was a terrible time to be conversing with the sylph. His mental defences had been obliterated by the overwhelming force of his nightmare and all Jisung could think about was how closely Hyunjin’s eyes resembled the dancing, flickering fire. How unknown he was, yet how quickly Jisung had fallen under his spell, pulled into Hyunjin’s magnetic orbit like a moth to the deadly flame.

‘Jisung.’

The name fell heavily between them, a demand for attention, and Jisung flinched minutely, dream-Hyunjin’s voice echoing in his ears.

Cool fingertips under his chin, inexorably turning him to face Hyunjin. ‘Look at me.’

Jisung did so, helpless to refuse, and his breath caught as the swirling orange-gold of Hyunjin’s fierce stare threatened to consume him, to devour him with the same voracious fury as the awful fire and suddenly Jisung could feel the heat of it against his skin, could smell the smoke, feel it stinging in his throat –

He wrenched himself out of Hyunjin’s hold, stumbling back across the deck and gasping for breath.

_‘Seja-jeoha?’_

His lashes fluttered down for a moment and he heard metallic rustling as Hyunjin disappeared into the gloom once more.

‘Is everything alright?’ Yeji asked, drawing closer.

Jisung spun on his heel and raised a hand to his anxious Guardswoman. ‘I drifted off, no need for concern. I’ll return to my cabin now.’

Her shoulders relaxed and she nodded, following him inside again. Before the door closed, a final gust of tempestuous wind chased after them and Jisung pointedly ignored the whisper of laughter it carried with it.

\--

Three days passed and Jisung’s hand was healing well enough that he managed to convince Ryujin, Yeji, and Chaeryoung not to throw Hyunjin overboard with his wings violently excised from his back. They’d protested strongly when Jisung had informed them of his intentions to continue his private evening meals with Hyunjin, but he’d put his foot down and they’d reluctantly given way.

Tonight Hyunjin visited Jisung in his quarters for _agwi-jjim_ and _soju_. Since the night by the bowsprit, the sylph had largely kept out of Jisung’s way but they were barely half a week from the Triumvirate and not only were Jisung’s dreams continuing, he had a nagging sense of time running out. He didn’t know what for, only that the window would be closed, the opportunity lost if he did not take it before they made landfall.

When Chaeryoung let Hyunjin into the cabin, he looked as though it had been two and a half months rather than two and a half weeks since his captivity ended. He inclined his head to Jisung, who returned the gesture and poured the _soju_ while Hyunjin took his seat. Silently, they raised their glasses to each other and downed the drink in one mouthful, the alcohol burning almost as much as Hyunjin’s molten gaze, his eyes a dark orange.

Starting his meal without breaking the quiet, Jisung once again found he scarcely tasted the food, much as he loved it. There was a latent expectancy hanging in the air between Hyunjin and himself, one that could not be ignored. So he tried to assemble his thoughts into some semblance of order, tried to find the words to encompass the urgent feeling tap-tapping away under his skin and slowly driving him mad.

The result was unexpected.

‘How much of your situation with the pirates did you engineer?’

Hyunjin lowered his mouthful of blackmouth angler and soybean sprouts, seemingly unfazed. ‘None of what you saw. It was never my intention to end up locked in a box. I didn’t lie to you about it, Jisung.’

‘But you _did_ engineer the events leading up to your imprisonment, didn’t you?’

‘Some of them. As I said, I misjudged things.’

‘What, exactly, did you misjudge?’ Jisung wasn’t entirely certain where he was going with this but his pulse quickened, like his subconscious had caught the end of a trail he hadn’t consciously realised yet. ‘And what events did you arrange?’

‘Why the sudden interest?’ Hyunjin shot back. He leaned forward slightly, perhaps without meaning to, the weight of his attention prickling Jisung’s skin. ‘It’s hardly relevant now.’

‘I disagree,’ Jisung retorted. ‘As much as I’d like to believe you, Hyunjin, I think it’s very relevant. So answer the questions.’

Hyunjin’s jaw tightened and his nostrils flared, gold flashing across his irises, but he did as ordered. ‘I misjudged the power of superstition and how easily the trust of a human breaks under duress. I contrived the circumstances which allowed me onto their ship and everything from there until they knocked me out with a sword hilt to the back of my skull so they could lock me away before I killed them all.’

Jisung went very still as every one of his instincts screamed to life, demanding that the sylph be restrained, if not executed, at once. The pirate captain’s final words returned unbidden to Jisung, how the man had warned him that Hyunjin was dangerous even with a dozen swords at his throat. He didn’t listen to the shrieking clamour in the back of his head, though. Not least because Hyunjin was watching him closely but also because Jisung was quite sure he was in no danger of being murdered, not if he kept his wits about him. There was a _reason_ Hyunjin was indulging his questions, after all.

The food between them entirely forgotten, Jisung squared his shoulders, not backing down an inch despite the air of barely contained violence pouring off Hyunjin in palpable waves. All of a sudden, he knew _exactly_ where he was going with this line of inquiry.

‘And how similar are those circumstances to the ones on my ship, manufactured by you or not?’ Jisung asked, dragging out his words.

It was Hyunjin’s turn to freeze.

‘We’ve already established the fact that you’re here because you _want_ to be.’

‘The circumstances are different,’ Hyunjin growled, his voice having dropped at least half an octave, ‘because you trust me more than they did.’

Jisung’s brows rose. ‘Oh, I trust you, do I?’

Hyunjin snorted, upper lip curling as his eyes glowed. ‘You’re alone in a room with me. You accepted me as a sparring partner and let me get away with causing you bodily harm. Yes, you trust me.’

‘By that logic, you must trust me too,’ Jisung countered.

The look of distaste changed to a feral slash of a grin. ‘Mmm, I suppose I must.’

‘So tell me,’ Jisung insisted, tilting forward just a fraction, ‘what you want so badly that you’re trying for it again right after the last attempt saw you trapped at the mercy of those who have none?’

Hyunjin’s expression darkened once more, his wings rustling softly behind him as he ran the tip of his tongue over the inner seam of his lower lip. He hadn’t blinked in far too many minutes, tracking every minute shift in Jisung’s posture. Hyunjin laid his hands very carefully flat on the table and when he spoke again, he managed to sound almost pleasant, almost calm, if by “pleasant” and “calm” one meant “a hair’s breadth from losing control of some no doubt very nasty impulses”.

‘Why would I tell you that?’

‘Because you don’t want me to give Chaeryoung, Ryujin, and Yeji orders to incapacitate you by any means necessary,’ Jisung answered plainly, holding Hyunjin’s shining gold stare.

This was a test of wills, make no mistake about it, and Hyunjin was clearly doing his best to intimidate Jisung into submission. Well, Jisung did so hate to be a spoilsport, except that no, no he really didn’t. He’d been raised in the Emperor’s court, for gods’ sake, he knew a thing or two about scare tactics.

Hyunjin’s fingertips whitened as he pressed them hard into the polished wood. ‘I could kill them all before they put a single scratch on me.’

Jisung tipped his head back slightly, unimpressed. ‘I don’t think you could.’

Tendons stood out on the backs of those large hands. ‘If I took to the air, none of them could touch me.’

‘We have mounted crossbows and Ryujin is a very good shot,’ Jisung countered, a grin threatening to curl up one corner of his mouth. ‘You’d have to stay quite a distance away and that wouldn’t be able to get much of anything from any of us, would you?’

Hyunjin’s mouth flattened into a displeased line. ‘This isn’t – I cannot just – to even _speak_ of this is to commit to it,’ he bit out. ‘And I do not think you want me to commit to it right this very moment.’

‘Then when?’ Jisung demanded, that urgency scraping against the underside of his flesh. ‘When can you speak of it?’

‘Before we make landfall,’ Hyunjin said, confirming Jisung’s supposition. ‘Then you will know and –’ he swallowed – ‘so will I.’

Jisung waited to see if Hyunjin would concede anything further but the sylph was quiet, so Jisung leaned back with a sharp exhale, breaking eye contact for a moment.

‘Very well,’ he relented. ‘Before landfall. I’m holding you to this, Hyunjin.’

Hyunjin dipped his head in a short nod.

‘Now,’ Jisung continued, suddenly ravenous, ‘shall we eat?’

\--

The winds were favourable, the weather mild, and two days later, the islands of the Tymon Triumvirate appeared on the horizon. They continued to make good time and by evening, the Crown Prince’s ship was close enough that they would have an escort by mid-morning of the following day at the latest.

Jisung did not dine with Hyunjin that night but the sylph offered him a wide smile when Jisung looked at him in askance. Adrenaline spiked in Jisung’s veins. Tomorrow, he would at last return home and finally, _finally_ learn Hyunjin’s secret. For now, though, it was time to sleep. He had a long day ahead of him, after all.

_(Heat._

_Smoke._

_Orange and gold and red._

_Burning, crackling._

_Fire._

_He knew this scenario, he’d been here before, he was sure of it, but still he quailed before the onslaught of vicious, hungry flames. Still he searched desperately for an escape that did not exist. His cabin was awash in fire, tongues of bright gold reaching for the ceiling and the wood creaked ominously around him, swamping him with fresh terror._

_What would kill him first?_

_The collapsing ship?_

_The ocean that’d flood in afterwards?_

_Or the searing flames, merciless in their single-minded intention?_

_He coughed and choked and collapsed onto his knees, struggling to breathe through the thick smoke, eyes watering till his vision swam –_

‘Jisung.’

_The sylph emerged from the fire, unharmed, his four wings spread wide and the razor-edged feathers reflecting the blaze until they seemed aflame too. Eyes of gold and orange and red and thousand rippling colours in between stared into him, piercing him to the marrow of his bones and holding him fast as his world was destroyed._

‘Jisung.’

_Please, he tried to beg the creature he feared as much as the fire, the creature he trusted more than anything under the sun, please._

_He was so scared._

_He did not want to die, not here, not now, not like this._

_The sylph crouched beside him, teeth glinting in the flickering light, footsteps of blood and ash trailing beyond him into the flames._

‘Do you want to live?’

_Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes –_

‘What would you give?’

_All his possessions, every single coin to his name, even his birthright. Himself, if he must._

_Everything, anything._

_The sylph’s grin broadened, as though he was pleased with the offerings._

‘So be it.’

_And with his sharp nails, curved like bird claws, the sylph carved two lines of excruciating pain down his back and he screamed and screamed and screamed –_

‘You are ready now.’ _)_

Jisung woke with the tail end of a scream fading from his throat and eyes of orange-gold filling his line of sight.

‘Hello, Jisung,’ Hyunjin purred, the dim grey light of pre-dawn glinting off his teeth.

Jisung was not ashamed to admit that he just about jumped out of his skin, scrambling backwards until he hit the headboard, the blankets tangled around his legs. He tried to speak, tried to demand an explanation, but his lungs weren’t working quite yet and his throat was tight. Panting for breath, he cast a wild look about, startled to see no-one else present but for the sylph crouched on the end of his bed. One hand fluttering uselessly at his neck, Jisung stared at Hyunjin in horrified accusation, adrenaline racing through his blood.

Hyunjin laughed, tossing his head back for sheer amusement. ‘My dear, sweet Crown Prince,’ he snickered. ‘I did not _lie_ to you.’ He rocked forward, bracing his hands on either side of Jisung’s drawn up knees. ‘You simply didn’t ask the right questions.’

‘Wh– what –’ Jisung wheezed, growing more unsettled by the moment. Where was Ryujin? How had Hyunjin gotten past her?

‘I do not walk in dreams,’ Hyunjin explained patiently, as though his face was not inches from Jisung’s, as though this whole situation was not wildly out of control. ‘Your dreams are the creation of your own mind. But,’ he continued, bare chest pressing against Jisung’s shins, ‘I _can_ enter your mind when you sleep. Your guard is so wonderfully low then. Almost like you were waiting for me to come in.’

‘What – why are – where’s Ryujin?’ Jisung panted, the vice grip on his lungs slowly loosening. He dropped his hand to Hyunjin’s shoulder but was so weakened from his fright that he couldn’t push Hyunjin at all.

‘Oh, you don’t need to worry about her anymore,’ Hyunjin said gleefully, the fire in his eyes terribly fierce. ‘You don’t need to worry about anyone else ever again.’

A bolt of fear, cold and ugly, slammed down Jisung’s spine and his hands began to tremble. ‘Did you – did you hurt her? Hurt them?’ His gaze darted to Hyunjin’s wings, trying in vain to see any sticky evidence of blood in the gloom.

Hyunjin’s laugh was bright as a summer’s day and cruel as a blade through the heart. He rolled off the bed to his feet without answering. ‘Do you know how to make fire without matches, Jisung?’ Slowly, deliberately, he moved backwards towards the door. ‘Do you know how to coax it into existence with nothing but the power of your own body?’

His newly regained breath catching again, Jisung shook his head. Could he jump out of bed and grab his sword where it lay on top of his clothing chest before Hyunjin crossed the room to him? The chances were low, certainly with how badly he was shaking.

Catching the tip of his primary feathers between his fingers, Hyunjin seemed to wipe off something slick and viscous that he smeared over the door. He lifted his wings, brushing them against the wall as he walked around the cabin, his attention never once leaving Jisung.

_‘I_ can make fire,’ he said. ‘But you know that, don’t you?’

Memories of the awful dream that apparently had _not_ been a dream flashed through Jisung’s mind and he protested hastily, ‘No, wait –’

Hyunjin snapped his fingers and a spark jumped from them to the thick substance ringing the cabin. It might as well have been oil for how quickly it burst into flame, hot and bright, orange and yellow.

His heart trying to crawl up his throat as the nightmare became reality, Jisung flung himself from his bed as fire rippled around the room towards him. He landed hard on one elbow, pulse pounding like that of a hunted creature, and scrambled inelegantly to his feet, retreating to the relative safety of the cabin’s open floor. How much of that accelerant had Hyunjin put on the walls? It was burning so fiercely already that it seemed unlikely that anything less than the ocean would be able to put it out and oh, that was a _very_ bad thought.

‘Why are you doing this?’ Jisung demanded of Hyunjin, who stood unconcerned near the door, his wings seemingly impervious to the flames licking over them.

Hyunjin’s stare was heavy-lidded, his expression one of deep satisfaction. ‘I am doing this,’ he drawled, his many scars highlighted in the flickering light, ‘because it must be done. That sounds better than _because I want to_ , doesn’t it? Although that holds true, too.’

‘I don’t understand,’ Jisung gritted out, fighting to contain the tide of panic rising behind his sternum, forcing himself to maintain eye contact.

With a rustling _swoosh_ that could barely be heard above the roar of the fire, Hyunjin extended his silvery wings again and stalked towards Jisung with the patience of a predator about to go in for the kill. Jisung allowed his attention to only waver briefly to those sharp feathers before fixing it back on their infinitely more dangerous owner.

‘I told you once that compassion is not something we were created with. Few of us ever learn it, either,’ Hyunjin said coolly, circling Jisung slowly. ‘Some believe that our hearts are the price that must be paid for these wings. I’ve never been convinced but then, I don’t remember what I was like before.’

Jisung just about swallowed his tongue. _‘Before –’_

‘I was a sylph?’ Hyunjin interrupted. He came to a halt with Jisung’s bed at his back, hungry flames flickering over the headboard. ‘Yes. I remember none of it. And nor, I think, will you, Jisung, when I have given you _your_ wings.’

Over the course of his two and a half decades of life, Jisung had grown accustomed to people saying whatever they could to throw him off balance and he had become skilful at turning this back on them, at making a mockery of their efforts. Now, however, he was so turned around that he couldn’t tell if he’d really woken up at all or if he was still trapped in a nightmare. Or, worse, if the nightmare had followed him into the waking world. No, if it had been _waiting_ for him, staring Jisung in the face while he danced merrily about it, his eyes blithely closed.

‘My wings,’ Jisung repeated. His head was beginning to spin.

Hyunjin traced his lower lip with his tongue. ‘Your wings,’ he agreed.

As the scene that had haunted him for three weeks unfolded around him and the monster _he_ had invited onto the ship watched him with a stare that pierced his flesh and scorched his bones, Jisung took a moment to just _breathe_. Nightmare or not, this was his current reality. There was no point in quailing before it, despite the very real fear clogging his veins like wet sand. He was the Crown Prince of the Blessed Empire, after all.

‘I don’t suppose I have a choice in the matter?’ Jisung asked tightly.

Hyunjin laughed again, closing the distance between them in a snap of whiplash-fast movement. He took Jisung’s chin in the palm of his hand, cupping Jisung’s jaw with long fingers, and Jisung allowed this because fighting every battle was not a viable way to win the war.

‘Oh, but I gave you many choices, Jisung. What do you think those night visions were, hmm?’ Molten orange and gold glowed like magma in Hyunjin’s eyes. ‘Every time, I asked what you would give and you always replied the same.’

He squeezed Jisung’s jaw meaningfully and the words fell unbidden from Jisung’s lips.

‘Anything. Everything,’ he whispered, the panic within him crystallising into icy dread.

There was no war to be waged here. This was not something Jisung could _fight_. Victory had been called weeks ago and reiterated every day since. An unexpected curl of shame flared in Jisung’s gut and he dropped his gaze, hands fisting at his sides. What kind of an Imperial Heir was he, to give himself up so easily to another when his life had been tagged for the duty of rulership since before he was born?

‘What’s this – guilt?’ Hyunjin chuckled softly. ‘How very arrogant of you. But then, you are a prince, are you not?’

The words like ash in his mouth, Jisung said, ‘Not for much longer, it would seem.’

‘Come now,’ Hyunjin crooned, ducking his head closer. ‘Why do you mourn? Is it not the desire of every mortal man to fly?’

‘If this is the only way to do so, then it isn’t worth the cost,’ Jisung growled, trying to tug himself from Hyunjin’s hold.

But Hyunjin’s fingers dug in, keeping Jisung in place. ‘And yet, this is the path that Fate has led you to.’

‘I am Heir to the Blessed Empire. I choose my _own_ path,’ Jisung retorted, and then he struck out towards Hyunjin’s ribs with a fist, letting spontaneity guide him.

But Hyunjin’s speed of movement was unrivalled and he grabbed Jisung’s wrist before Jisung could make contact, spinning him around with unexpected strength. Hyunjin twisted Jisung’s arm up his back, then kicked the prince’s feet apart, wedging his knee between Jisung’s thighs. Jisung grunted and thrust back his other elbow, seeking the sylph’s belly, but Hyunjin dodged and twisted his arm further, eliciting a pained yelp from Jisung as he promptly went limp, struggling to ease the strain on his shoulder.

Seizing a handful of Jisung’s hair and wrenching his head to the side, Hyunjin’s breath skimmed Jisung’s throat as he hissed, ‘Well, it wouldn’t be Fate then, would it?’

What could Jisung say to that? Absolutely _nothing_.

‘Tell me,’ he snarled, the hammering of his heart almost drowning out the growing roar of the fire. ‘What did you really come here for?’

Hyunjin’s lips brushed Jisung’s skin as he grinned. ‘I already told you – I came here for safety. Just not the sort you thought I meant.’

‘And how does _this_ equal safety? You might burn my ship to ashes with everyone on it –’ Jisung’s breath stuttered at the pain of even imagining such a scenario – ‘but the Empire will hunt you to the ends of the earth.’

‘I relish the prospect,’ Hyunjin said, and the vicious glee in his voice was too strong to be anything other than genuine. ‘As will you.’

In a flurry of motion too quick for Jisung to follow, much less attempt to counter, Hyunjin forced him to his hands and knees and ripped open the back of his nightshirt. Warm air washed over him and Jisung shivered. He opened his mouth to demand Hyunjin _cease_ , but then the sylph’s sharp nails scraped down his spine and all the air whooshed out of Jisung’s lungs. The searing bite of sensation found traction with something foreign and new inside him, something that had only been present in the not-dreams, and he fought to breathe around it. It manifested as a gut-deep punch of visceral hunger, chanting _yes_ instead of _no_ , _hurry, hurry, hurry_ instead of _stop, stop, stop_. Primal terror clashed up against it and Jisung collapsed onto his elbows, dizzy from the emotional dissonance.

‘Oh, you’re hungry for it now, aren’t you?’ Hyunjin laughed. ‘Don’t fear it, Crown Prince – Fate has promised me you’ll survive.’

Jisung struggled within Hyunjin’s tight hold but he couldn’t even tell if it was an attempt to escape or encouragement. He’d never felt less like the Crown Prince in his life. The most important lesson he’d had drilled into him by his legion of tutors was _control_ , whether over himself or anything around him and right now Jisung had control over nothing at all.

Smoke scorched his throat, turning his words to a hoarse rasp as he entreated, ‘Please.’ Jisung’s lashes fluttered down and he _begged_. For what, he didn’t know, but still the word forced itself out, clawing and urgent. ‘Please.’

‘As you wish,’ Hyunjin murmured.

The terror spiked in tandem with the hunger and they were both overtaken by a white-hot wave of pain as Hyunjin dug his nails into Jisung’s flesh. Jisung screamed loud enough to deafen himself as he violently jolted, every muscle in his body going into spasm. What felt like a pair of glowing coals slowly carved two lines down his back, one on either side of his spine, and he writhed against his restraints, certain he was going to die. Jisung ran out of air and couldn’t find the strength to suck in more, nearly gagging on the force of his silent howl. Everything vanished from his mind, nothing mattered, nothing _existed_. It was just him and endless, all-consuming _agony_.

An eternity passed before the pain lessened fractionally and Jisung slumped to the floor immediately, choking on the sobs that ripped harsh and dry from his chest. His hands twitched and trembled, fingertips digging into the smooth boards in a frantic attempt at distraction. Jisung tried to slow his breathing so he didn’t throw up but his concentration was completely shot, his back surely on fire, and he lay utterly helpless, no option but to wait for the burning to subside.

Somewhere overhead, words were being spoken, but Jisung couldn’t make them out. There was a light sensation on his head and he flinched on instinct, an animalistic wail of anguish leaving him when the slight movement jostled his back. Desperate to know what was happening around him, he forced his eyes open, blinking rapidly to dispel the black spots and focus on the wash of orange-gold-silver-red filling his line of sight.

The sylph – _Hyunjin_ – crouched on his knees beside him, teeth bared in a grin, one of his hands dripping crimson. His mouth moved but the words were lost again to the ringing in Jisung’s ears. Hyunjin raised his hands behind himself, reaching for the base of his lower pair of wings, and an unexpected swell of _horror-hunger-pain-need_ surged in Jisung’s veins, reducing him to panting like a trapped rabbit.

The moment Hyunjin began the excision was obvious – he didn’t scream but his body went rigid, the fire in his eyes outshining the one devouring the cabin. His lips peeled back from his teeth in a ferocious snarl, the colour draining rapidly from his face as he continued his grim work. An almighty squelching crunch that Jisung heard distantly rang out and blood went _everywhere_ as Hyunjin succeeded in ripping his wings free. He shuddered, falling forward onto his hands while the wings flopped to the ground, the feathers reflecting the lurid flames reaching ever closer.

Even through the cloying fog of his own pain, Jisung felt a muted pang of shock at the sight of Hyunjin’s face twisted in anguish, glittering tears sliding down his face and to the floor.

But Hyunjin didn’t stay there long, pushing himself upright after only a handful of seconds. The line of his jaw might as well have been cut of steel but his expression was one of pure focused determination. A cold numbness beginning to creep through his limbs, Jisung could only watch as Hyunjin grabbed the mangled root of his severed wings and dragged them towards him. The heavy brush of muscle and bone hidden by thousands of feathers sparked fresh agony on the abused flesh of Jisung’s back and he shrieked, smacking his head hard against the floor as his body attempted to escape the unwanted new stimulus. But Hyunjin pinned him in place with a hand and knee, lifting the first wing.

Jisung yelled, hoarse and ragged, as the base of the wing met his exposed flesh but was much too weak to struggle much, his skull pounding, and then that foreign hunger _leapt_ to the fore. It dug itself into the vicious pain and seemed to howl with delight, consuming and consuming and consuming, the force of it utterly overwhelming when the second wing joined the first. The pressure of Hyunjin’s limbs disappeared and Jisung didn’t see where the sylph went, what he was doing, locked in an awful state of _hunger-agony-hunger-agony_ that had him arching and twisting, screaming till he was sure his throat would tear.

Unlike the initial pain, this one didn’t end. This one kept going and going and going.

(Later, Hyunjin would tell Jisung that he blacked out for a while, only resurfacing when the worst of it was over.)

When _at last_ Jisung could think again, the hunger had gone and the brutal edge of the pain subsided, leaving him exhausted and aching. His back was mostly numb, giving him little idea what shape it was in. He stayed limp and quiescent for a little while, taking advantage of his returned ability to breathe easily.

Eventually, Jisung opened his eyes. He was still lying on the floor and the fire still raged around him, the flames nearly within reach. Strange that he hadn’t noticed them. Even stranger that they no longer scared him. In fact, the intense heat pouring off the fire was welcome, warming him to the core, fanning the embers there. Those were new too. Jisung wondered how much else was new.

‘Jisung.’

A familiar voice, husky and grating like it’d been under immense strain, but also the most comforting thing Jisung had ever heard in his life.

‘Sit up.’

Nothing special about the words but Jisung found himself carefully pushing himself up before he’d consciously decided to do so, feeling a compulsion to obey the owner of that voice. He sat back on his heels, hunched over with his hands braced on the floor, adjusting the unfamiliar weight on his back. It felt like it should hurt, but it didn’t, not really. He was still numb. Jisung lifted his head, peering up from under his fringe, clumped with sweat and gods knew what else.

The man crouched before him was lean, covered in small scars, and had two silver-grey wings half-raised. His piercing eyes reflected the fire crackling around them and a faint smile curled up his mouth. Sticky blood drenched his hands and forearms, staining his trousers and smeared across his skin.

‘Hyunjin.’ Jisung’s voice was hoarse. ‘Why do I feel the need to do anything you tell me to?’

The smile broadened. ‘It’ll fade. Your wings are still getting used to being yours, not mine.’

Oh. That’s right. Wings.

Jisung slowly twisted to look over his shoulder and lo and behold, there they were. A pair of large feathered wings. He tried to move them and the feathers rustled, bladed edges sliding against each other.

‘What now?’ he asked, hushed.

Hyunjin stood and held out a hand. ‘Come.’

Jisung got to his feet, wavering for a long moment, but Hyunjin waited patiently. Wary, Jisung placed his hand in Hyunjin’s, let him interlink their fingers. The fire was everywhere now and it was a miracle that the cabin hadn’t collapsed. Jisung reckoned he knew who was responsible for that.

‘Now we walk through the fire,’ Hyunjin said, but he didn’t say it as an order, letting Jisung agree in his own time.

‘Will it hurt?’ Jisung had had enough of pain, shivering at the hazy memories of _before_. They were already fading, his mind refusing to recreate such excruciating sensations.

‘No.’

He had no reason to distrust Hyunjin’s words so Jisung steeled himself and stepped forward, the flames engulfing him. They licked over his skin, his hair, his feathers and they didn’t burn him. The embers in Jisung’s gut glowed molten, drawing in the heat and growing stronger, brighter. Hyunjin guided him through the blinding wall of heat and light to a door that seemed to be composed entirely of charcoal, ready to crumble at the first hint of pressure.

‘Are you ready?’ Hyunjin asked, his voice easily reaching Jisung’s ears despite the roar of the fire. His free hand hovered over the door.

‘For what?’ Jisung returned. He couldn’t quite remember what lay outside this room that had clearly overstayed its life expectancy, held together by only the will of the sylph next to him.

Hyunjin grinned and it was a beautiful sight. ‘Everything.’

That sounded alarming but Jisung swallowed his worries and nodded.

‘Trust me,’ Hyunjin said, not quite a question.

And Jisung did, so he lifted his other hand and pushed Hyunjin’s forward till it touched the door. It promptly collapsed into a heap of smouldering chunks. Hyunjin stepped over them, drawing Jisung with him, the fire following them out.

Up ahead, panicked voices rang out. Jisung was distracted from thinking about them by the intoxicating scent of the fresh ocean air, taking a deep breath through his mouth to taste the salt tang on his tongue. Footsteps thundered towards them and Jisung glanced at Hyunjin, checking to see if he should be concerned or not. Orange-gold eyes met his and Hyunjin laughed, squeezing Jisung’s hand. He looked utterly delighted and Jisung found himself laughing too, a light-hearted buoyancy bubbling up inside him.

Of course there was no need to be concerned. What a silly thought. Jisung squeezed Hyunjin's hand in return and, as one, they turned to face the world.

**Author's Note:**

> this took an _ungodly_ amount of time and energy to finish. im not sure i've ever had a story go so spectacularly off-script and i don't know whether to be impressed or feed myself to the cat.
> 
> EDIT /// [We have a Russian translation here!!!](https://ficbook.net/readfic/9578771)


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